War
by MaidMikuruChan
Summary: "Geoff... Duncan died in the war..." "Courtney... he just got home last week—he definitely isn't dead." "B—But the sheriff... he came to my house... a—and my mom said... and the letters stopped..." "Court, he wrote you every day he was gone, a letter came through here for you on a daily basis.." foodtheftshipping -


war.

* * *

Courtney threw her head back and let out a laugh as she pumped her legs, the cold October air rushing up her skirt as her swing flew higher. Her dark almond eyes were shut tight, blocking out what little sun that was peaking from the overcast sky. Dark, waist length hair flowed behind her as her body was moved back and forth.

"Oh, goodness," the brunette said, her breath short from her laughter. She let her head sit upright as she wiped a tear from her eye. "You're kidding right?" she asked as she turned her head to face the teenage boy who filled the swing beside her. He pushed at the ground slightly, letting his swing move forward a few inches as the girl stared at him. Her grip on the metal chains tightened as she watched his expression remain stoic. "Duncan, you can't be serious," she almost shouted as the bottom of her Mary Janes scraped against the mulch, bringing her swing to a halt.

"I have to," he tried to argue. "I can't just sit around here and play construction when there's a damn war going on." His hands fell from the chains and found their way into his pocket.

Courtney shoved her swing behind her as she skidded in front of him, her legs shaking. "You can't go out there!"—her arms outstretched in both directions—"Do you have a death wish?" she shouted, rage filling her body.

Duncan lifted himself up and looked down at her face. "You know damn well"—he grabbed onto her shoulders, trying his best to resist shaking her—"I wouldn't go out there to meet my death." His grip tightened as his jaw clenched. "It's just something I have to do."

Courtney knocked his hands away. "No, you don't!" she yelled, her face flushing with red. "You have no reason to go to the hellhole and leave me here for God only knows how many years!"

Duncan lowered his head and used his hand to cover his mouth. He let his thoughts take over his mind for a few seconds before moving his hand to his forehead and saying, "You can't stop me."

Courtney's face took on a hurt expression. "I hate you," she seethed as she raised her hand to slap him.

Duncan grabbed her wrist and raised his head. "I love you, Princess. I really do. But I have to do this," he said in a steady voice, trying to calm her anger.

Courtney ripped her hand back and sent him a glare. "You can go straight to hell," she said darkly as she turned her back to him.

Duncan wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head. "You don't mean that," he pointed out.

Courtney turned her head and bit her lip. "Promise me you'll write and come home you first chance," she whispered in a barely audible voice.

"You've got a deal," he whispered into her ear. "I'll be home before you know it."

"When do you leave?" she asked coldly.

"Tomorrow—five-thirty."

* * *

Courtney sat on her bed and stared at the small picture frame that rested on her bedside table. She reached over and traced the outline of him as a tear fell down her cheek. Six months was a long time, despite how quickly the days seemed to pass while she was living them.

A letter wasn't enough for her some days, but it was better than nothing she had decided. His letters were few and far between in April, and the terrible rain kept her mood dark and depressed. She began to oversleep almost every morning—some days she would lay in bed until the sun went back down, sleeping on and off throughout the day. She had found sleeping made the days seem shorter, so she exploited it as best she could.

The only downside to sleeping all day was that is left her no time to check the mail, but her mother was fairly good at filling in for her and sliding anything that came from him under her door. Her mother and her hadn't spoken in five months—she was given a month to get over Duncan and move on, she was to act as if he had died on the war and continue on courting. When she failed to forget him, let alone allow other men to court her, her mother forbid her from going out or having any communication with anyone but him. Telling her that it was what she deserved if she wanted to be with him so badly.

Courtney counted the weeks it had been since she received a letter in her head. Seeing as it was the last day of April, that made it three. Three whole weeks without any kind of communication with anyone. That also made it three weeks since she had eaten more than a few bites of her meals. The thoughts of what could have happened to him made her sick to her stomach and the thought of him having no food wherever it was he was stationed made it impossible to swallow anything.

She let herself fall back onto her bed, her thoughts swimming—practically drowning—in images of Duncan and the things that could possibly happen to him. After a few minutes of mind numbing worry, she was rescued by her mother shouting her name.

Courtney blinked a few times as she sat up; she hadn't heard her name in over three months, let alone from her mother. She let her bare feet touch the hardwood floor and felt a small shiver go through her spine. She slowly walked to her door and turned the handle.

While opening her mouth to speak, she realised how rough and dry her throat was. "Yes, mother?" she called out, her voice taking on a painfully hoarse sound.

"Some news has come for you," her mother replied, "come down here."

The brunette carefully made her way down the steps, her legs wobbling a bit from her recent lack of movement. As soon as her feet hit the last step, her mother's face was right in front of hers. Courtney noted the additional wrinkles her mother had gained since she had last faced her.

"Courtney, dear," her mother began as she wrapped her arms around her daughter, who instantly went stiff, "the sheriff came and told me a telegram had come in about Duncan."

Courtney's breath caught in her throat as her heart hit the pit of her stomach. "No..." was all she could whisper.

"I'm so sorry, dear. He asked I tell you—he couldn't bear to," her mother said as she soothingly rubbed her daughter's back.

Courtney's whole body shook as she took in the news. "I'm going to go to my room," was all she could say before she climbed the steps as quickly as possible, stumbling numerous times on her way up. She slammed into her door and fiddled with the handle until it gave in and let the door swing open.

Tears covered her face as she fell to the floor, her body shaking as she curled into the foetal position. Her sobs became loud and violent as she managed to kick her door shut. Her mind raced through over fifty different ways her lover could have died, all within a matter of ten seconds. At last, her mind played a clip of him taking a bullet to the chest, and with that dark thought she was unconscious.

* * *

It took her nearly a month to fully comprehend what had happened and accept it enough to let herself be around others. She lived in her room for another three weeks before finally admitting defeat and letting herself sit in the living room a few hours of the day. Her siblings tried their best to cheer her up, but all failed and decided to simply let her be until she came to them.

Her mother had set her up with a fine man whose father owned a very wealthy and successful law firm, which made him a perfectly acceptable young man to her family. Though Courtney refused at first, she was convinced—almost forced—to go out on a clear night near the end of June.

That night had come much quicker than Courtney had expected, and before she knew it, she was heading down her steps to meet her date. It was painful, to say the least, and she didn't quite have a handle on her emotions, but she decided it would be best to just go and make her mother happy.

Her dark hair was curled and pulled up, with a few large sections falling down her back and few small framing her face. When she looked in the mirror, all her thoughts surrounded Duncan and how he loved her hair when it was curled.

Courtney gave her head a shake to clear her thoughts and tried to swallow her tears. The doorbell had rung minutes earlier and her date was standing in the threshold, complimenting everything from her hair down to how her dress hit the floor just so. She pinched the fat of her face between her forefinger and thumb, the mild pain giving her cheeks a slight blush. Many dates had seen this faint blush, but only Duncan had seen a true, blood red rush of colour across her cheeks.

"Are you ready to go, my dear," her date asked, his arm held out for her to grab onto. "I have the most splendid evening planned for the two of us."

Courtney faked a tiny giggle and covered her mouth with her hand; it was only half-faked, seeing as it was quite easy for her to find his word choice rather amusing. "I am excited to see what you have planned," she replied softly as she took his arm and let him lead her to the porch.

"Be home by—oh, who cares, just show her a wonderful time, Justin!" her mother shouted out, as she excitedly waved to them. "My daughter needs something to brighten her spirits!" she added right before she closed the door.

Courtney swallowed the vomit just as it hit the back of her tongue, she was quick to react since her mother's voice gave the same result each time she heard it. "I would prefer to be home by nine," she spoke up as Justin opened the door for her.

"We will head home whenever your beautiful voice requests," Justin said smoothly as he helped her into the passenger seat. "I will grant your every wish."

Courtney gave him a smile as he shut the door, almost feeling bad for him—almost.

* * *

"Hello," Courtney said softly as she walked into the small post office, trying to ignore the obnoxiously loud bell that had announced her arrival. "Geoff, are you here?" she asked, leaning over the red topped counter that she had run into a few feet from the door.

A blonde boy stepped out from the office that was hidden away towards the back of the building. "Courtney? Courtney Walker?"

"Yeah," she said with a small laugh, "it's been a long time, I guess."

Geoff let out a breath. "Long time? Shit, it's been at least two years since I last saw your pretty face," he said, a smile overtaking his features as he walked up to the counter.

Courtney smiled at the compliment and nodded in thanks. "Yeah, it took me a while to get past Duncan leaving, and then courting again was painful to say the least—but, here I am, ready to face the world and try to look for a home."

"A home?" he asked as he looked on the shelf below the counter top that stood between him and Courtney. "Well," he said as he shuffled through some papers to find the list of houses for sale, "I guess you and Duncan were ready to marry when he left, so it's shouldn't be a surprise that you are still ready to go at it."

Courtney's smile disappeared and she placed both hands on the counter. "Geoff..." she started, not sure how to word what she was about to say, "Duncan died in the war."

The blonde dropped the papers he was holding and looked into her eyes, trying to search them for proof that she was kidding. "Courtney... he just got home last week—he definitely isn't dead." He shook his head as he pushed his stack of papers to the side. "I don't know who told you that, but they were either lying or just heard wrong."

Courtney's heart rate shot up and breathing got harder. "B—But the sheriff... he came to my house... a—and my mom said... and the letters... they stopped..."

Geoff grabbed her shoulders to keep her from fainting, "Court, he wrote you every day he was gone, a letter came through here for you on a daily basis."

"I—I've got to go," she said so quickly she wasn't sure how she had gotten it all out without completely stumbling over her words.

"He's at his parent's house for the week!" Geoff shouted after her as she bolted through the old wooden door, leaving the bell above to ring mercilessly.

* * *

"So, were you ever going to tell me?" Courtney shouted as she tore into her house and into the living room.

Her mother looked at her and took a sip of her tea. "Tell you what, dear?" she asked, letting her eyes go back to the fire place.

"Oh, I don't know," Courtney said sarcastically, walking up to her mother as slowly as she could. "Maybe the fact that you **lied** about my boyfriend dying to get me to court Justin!"

Her mother choked a little on her tea and sent her daughter a glare. "He was no good for you, Courtney, and he's probably dead now anyway, so it was a good thing I lied and got you over him earlier."

"Okay!" Courtney shouted as she slammed her hands onto the arm rests of her mom's chair. "One, I was **never** over Duncan and two, he came home last week and I know _damn_ well that he would have visited here before anywhere else."

The woman rolled her yes at her daughter's actions, keeping her composure. She let out a condescending laugh. "Oh, Courtney dear, I can assure you the he didn't come to the house—must have picked up an army whore while his girlfriend was too busy screwing the lawyer's son."

Courtney pulled herself away from her mother and took a few deep breaths. She turned on her heel and stomped towards the front door, which was still open from her brash entrance.

"Don't come back to this house unless you are still wearing Justin's ring," her mother called out, her voice so casual that it made Courtney's blood boil.

"I hope you die in your sleep," Courtney shouted before slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Duncan bit his bottom lip and he rolled a tiny, silver diamond ring between his thumb and forefinger. He had been doing this for the past week, not moving from the kitchen table for anything other than going to bed or grab his pack of cigarettes.

"You know," his father began, looking over his newspaper, "you can't get her back by just sitting there and smoking."

Duncan shot a look at his father and set the ring on the table. "Who said I wanted her back?"

"Son," his father said, putting his paper flat on the table, "you have been staring at that engagement ring for days upon days, we all know you want her back."

"Whatever," he mumbled before he started pushing the small piece of jewellery back and forth. "If she wanted to be with me, she would've wrote me back."

"Sweetheart, you chased that poor girl every since primary school," his mother commented from the other side of the kitchen. "You know you don't mean that."

Duncan let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I guess you're—" he was stopped short by a pounding ound coming from the other side of their front door.

His dad gave him a smile, "I bet you that's your girl," he said with a wink.

Duncan rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. "It's probably just Geoff, he called earlier talking about having to see me so he could tell me something." As soon as he opened the door his heart sank into the pit of his stomach.

Courtney was standing in front of him for the first time in over two years, her usually perfect hair was thrown into a messy bun of some sort and she had short bits of hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. Her breaths were raspy and quick. "I—I walked here from my house... which is a lto further than I remember from when we were kids... but anyway—"

Duncan grabbed her mid-sentence and hugged her as tightly as he could. "Explain later, Princess," he breathed into her hair. He pulled away and gave her his signature smirk before intertwining his fingers with hers and making a b-line for the stair case.

Courtney let out a giggle and her face broke into a true smile for the first time in years. "Duncan, wait up!"

* * *

omfg. up until her trip to the post office was on my computer for way too fucking long. finally done.


End file.
